


If I Could Save Time in a Bottle [ON HOLD]

by RosaleeWrites



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Feels, Cancer, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, I should be doing assignments, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm Sorry, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Minor Mila Babicheva/Sara Crispino, Otayurio, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Tall Yuri Plisetsky, Terminal Illnesses, dark humour, i'm already crying, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:48:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleeWrites/pseuds/RosaleeWrites
Summary: They have friendship, they have love, they have everything - except time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by the song Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce. [Check it out here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AnWWj6xOleY)
> 
> I have a lot of work and assignments to attend to at the moment so it'll be a bit slower than my usual writing but I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> [Please note that this has not been beta read and English is not my native language, so apologies for any mistakes. Constructive criticism is welcomed!]

* * *

 

"Mr. Altin, the doctor will see you now."

He follows the receptionist into a large room, decorated in a non-typical fashion for a doctor's office - floor-to-ceiling bookshelves provide a backdrop for a large mahogany desk, the opposite wall covered in an enormous map of the world and the rest of the walls adorned with expensive art - not the usual monotonous white and grey, sterile-looking room he has become accustomed to. Doctor Feltsman is an old, greying man with a receding hairline and a gruff, no-nonsense approach to life, yet Otabek finds that oddly comforting.

He stands up from behind his desk to shake Otabek's hand, "Good afternoon Mr. Altin, please take a seat."

"So, we've run all the necessary tests and..." the old man sighs, "well, it's not good."

Otabek nods, "How bad is it?"

Doctor Feltsman continues, "It's worse than the initial tests indicated. A series of lesions have spread out across your chest, it's an unusually aggressive type of cancer. I'm afraid you only have about 12 - 18 months to live, maybe a bit more with the right treatment and a few lifestyle changes."

Otabek's heart sinks - he's actually dying? He was expecting something bad but not to this extent. This can't be right, he's only 29 years old with his entire life ahead of him. He's too young to worry about death and there are so many things he hasn't gotten around to doing yet and...

The older man remains silent, giving Otabek the chance to sort through the rambling thoughts inside his head. He can't save his life so it's really the least he can do.

When the younger man finally collects himself he asks, "So you can't operate?"

"Unfortunately not."

"You can't save my life," he states more than asks.

"No, I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do but try to slow the process down and manage the pain with medication."

When he doesn't respond, the doctor continues, "Do you have any questions?"

The only answer he gets is the slow side-to-side shake of Otabek's head. 

"Alright then, here are some booklets on the different treatment options. This is a lot to take in - give yourself a little time to grieve, then take a look at these and see if anything appeals to you. In the meantime, I'm going to prescribe some medication which should ease any discomfort you may be feeling. Once you have an idea of how you'd like to proceed, make an appointment with me and we can discuss the best way forward."

 

He leaves the doctor's office shortly after but hardly remembers how he even got home, walking around in an absolute daze as his head is trying to process the dreadful news. He splashes some water on his face to ground himself and become present in his own body again.

He has always been an independent person, able to get by on his own and with little need for social interaction but he suddenly feels so incredibly lonely. He misses his family back in Almaty, a long way from where he sits in his desolate St. Petersburg apartment. Like a child, he's desperate to see his mom, craving the comfort of a loving mother telling him that everything will be OK. He settles for the next best thing and picks up the phone.

Hearing his mother's voice instantly soothes him - they spend a few minutes catching up, talking about his sisters and their husbands and children. She gives him some exciting news, revealing that his youngest sister just found out she is pregnant with her second child. He feels genuinely happy for her but there is a bit of jealousy tugging at his heart as well.

"Is something bothering you?" his mother suddenly asks - she always seems to knows when something's wrong.

"No, I'm fine. Just stressed from work," he lies.

A brief silence - he knows that she's fully aware he's lying but thankfully she decides not to push it, instead opting to change the subject.

"You know, it's about time you find yourself a girl and start a family. You're my eldest child yet you're the only one who hasn't married or had a child yet."

There it is. The dreaded conversation that comes up every few months, only this time instead of being slightly irritated by it he just feels incredibly sad. A family of his own - something he wanted eventually but it will now be out of his reach forever.

"Listen, I..." _I have something to tell you_ he tries to say butthe words get stuck in his throat.

His head is filled with thoughts of how his father's life decayed in front of his very eyes, just like his own life is starting to decay now. Memories of his mother's suffering which lasted until long after his death come flooding back as well - he knows very well that cancer doesn't just affect the person who has fallen ill, it affects everyone around them too. His sisters were still too young to fully understand it at the time but he remembers it quite vividly - the defeated look in his mother's eyes after his father had passed on, the pain visible on her face when she had to explain to her children that they would never see their father again, all the nights he could hear his mother crying through her bedroom door- and here he is about to inflict that same pain on her all over again. She deserves so much better than that.

"What is it?"

"I've got to go, I'm expecting guests tonight," he lies again.

"Oh that sounds promising, have fun! Thanks for the call."

"Will do, goodnight."

He's just about to hang up when he quickly presses the phone to his ear again, "Mom? You still there?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I love you."

"Well, you're unusually sentimental today."

"I can't tell my mother that I love her?"

She laughs, "I love you too, my boy."

 

He proceeds to do what he usually does when faced with a problem - take a long hot shower. Whether he's stressed, feeling sick or just struggling with something at work a hot shower never fails to clear his head and make him feel at least a bit better. But this is something a shower can't fix, the water can't wash this away. He finally allows himself to let go of all the emotions he had built up inside of him, tears of anger and despair mixing with hot water making them disappear as if they weren't shed in the first place. Things are always easier to deal with when you have something or someone to be angry at but this time there is nothing or no one to blame - not his loved ones, not some inanimate object, not even himself.

The one saving grace is that it's Friday, so he won't have to deal with people for the next two days, giving him some time to try and process everything. It ends up being a long, dreary weekend of perpetual beer drinking, eating junk food and watching trashy television. The absolute ridiculousness of reality TV and Soap Operas manage to keep his mind off his current situation for the most part but again, it too can't make this particular problem disappear. On the off chance that he lets his mind get the better of him, thoughts of unfulfilled goals and dreams fill his head, along with a bunch of questions burning to be answered. When should he tell his family? Should he seek treatment so he can live a bit longer? How long does he have until his symptoms become unbearable and he has to inevitably get holed up in a hospital? And, of course, what does he do with the last few months of his life? His looming death has just shown him that he's been _alive_ but not really  _living_ said life, though he is unsure of what exactly to do with that information.

 

By Sunday night he finally decides that being depressed about the whole situation isn't helping and he sure as hell isn't going to spend the last few months of his life wallowing in sorrow. He may not be able to achieve everything he wanted to before he dies but there are still a few things he can do.

Grabbing a pen and paper he compiles a rough and messy bucket list:

 _Travel - Europe? Japan?_  
~~Write a book?~~  
_Visit the family_  
_Quit work!_  
_Buy motorcycle + leather jacket_

Once he's satisfied he places it on the fridge door so he's forced to see it every day vowing to add to it as he thinks of any new ideas.

 

* * *

 

When Monday rolls around his enthusiasm goes down the drain again. The initial hurt and anger is subdued but still present, and being amongst other people really puts him in a bad mood - couples laughing and holding hands, parents lovingly interacting with their children and people happily going about their day because their lives aren't falling apart. What he would give to be one of them.

By the end of the workday, his pent-up emotions have him feeling exhausted. He usually opts to stand on the bus as he sits on his ass at work all day anyway, but today he's running on empty and he takes a seat near the front. He pops in his earphones playing some classical music to keep him calm and leans his head back closing his eyes, only opening them again several stops later when he feels the person next to him stir - a man with long blonde hair flowing over his shoulders and down his back, getting up and leaving the bus. When he looks down at the seat next to him, he realises the man seems to have dropped his wallet so he snatches it up and briskly makes his way off the bus without thinking twice.

"Excuse me."

"What do you want?" the blonde asks rudely.

"You forgot this on the bus."

The stranger's face softens significantly, "Oh. Thank you."

"No problem," Otabek nods and turns to make his way back to the bus stop but he pauses when the blonde speaks again.

"Did you get off the bus just so you could return this to me?"

"Yes."

He seems to be momentarily stunned as if this isn't a normal thing for a person to do, "Let me buy you a coffee to say thanks?"

"There's really no need..."

"Please?"

 

"This wallet used to belong to my late grandfather so..." he explains rather sheepishly as they stand in the queue, "it has a lot of sentimental value to me."

"I'm glad I could return it to you then."

"I also have a lot going on in my life right now, I definitely didn't need to have a lost wallet added to the shitshow. So, thank you. Really," he adds sincerely, "I don't think many people would have gone through the trouble of purposefully getting off the bus at the wrong stop just to do a small favour for a complete stranger."

The corners of Otabek's mouth twitch up into an almost-smile, "You're very welcome. Happy to help."

A slightly awkward silence ensues until they get their coffee, at which point it's time for them to part ways.

"My name is Otabek by the way."

"I'm Yuri," the blonde reaches out to shake Otabek's outstretched hand.

"Nice to meet you, Yuri. Thanks for the coffee."

He smiles, "Yeah, see you around."

 

* * *

 

From that day forward they seek each other out on the bus, engaging in small talk that is neither forced nor boring. They talk about books, movies, and music, often sharing earphones to listen to music together and it soon becomes the best part of both of their days. Being in somebody's company has never been this comfortable for Otabek before. Despite everything that's going on in his life he actually feels happy when Yuri's around, but only seeing each other on the bus isn't enough for him anymore.

"We should go grab dinner together sometime," he states out of the blue one day.

Yuri looks at him with wide eyes, "Why?"

"Why not? I enjoy your company."

"I... I just can't get involved with anyone right now."

"Who said anything about getting involved? We're friends aren't we?"

"Right..." the blonde looks down at his hands resting in his lap.

"I thought we had formed a friendship here, I'm sorry if I misunderstood."

"No!" he responds a bit too quickly, "No, you're right."

"We don't have to if you don't want to, it was just a suggestion."

Yuri pauses, clearly mulling this over in his head before he somewhat hesitantly agrees, "Are you free tomorrow?"

 

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 

"So, should we just order pizza for dinner tonight? I'm really not in the mood for cooking," Yuri's flatmate, Mila, asks from where she's lounging in front of the television.

"Do whatever you want, I won't be here."

"Wait, what? Where are you going off to?"

"Just meeting up with someone for dinner."

She jumps up from the couch in excitement, "Holy shit, my precious Yuratchka has a date!"

"It's not like that, he's just a friend."

Mila squints her eyes at him, clearly not convinced, "Right..."

"Ugh, whatever. Be useful and help me choose something to wear?"

Half an hour and several outfits later they settle on dark blue jeans, a green t-shirt and a black bomber jacket, Mila suggesting he wear his hair down.

"So, tell me more about this _friend_ of yours. Is he into men?" Mila asks as she's straightening his hair in front of her vanity table.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, "For the last time, it's a platonic friend date. Just like when you and I go out to eat together, nothing more."

"You never fuss this much about your appearance when _we_ go out for dinner."

He glares at her through the reflection in the mirror.

She shrugs, "What? I'm just saying..."

"God, you're such an annoying hag."

"But you still love me," she smiles brightly.

"Whatever."

 

* * *

 

At Yuri's suggestion, the two men meet up at an Asian fusion restaurant on the uppermost floor of a large shopping mall, taking a seat on the rooftop terrace overlooking parts of the city.

"Have you eaten here before?" Yuri asks.

"No, I generally avoid malls. But it looks nice."

"An old family friend of mine and his Japanese husband own it. You have to try the pork cutlet bowl, it's the best!"

"Husband?"

"They got married in South Africa a couple of years ago. It's obviously not legally recognised here in Russia, but it's binding in countries where same-sex marriage is allowed."

Otabek nods in understanding, prompting Yuri to continue, "They keep their relationship on the down-low for safety sake. Sucks that it has to be that way, but it's the best they're going to get until people stop being assholes about homosexuality."

Otabek attentively listens to Yuri chattering away about the restaurant owners, complaining about how disgustingly in love they are and while he might whine about them, Otabek can tell he's fond of them in his own way. That's the thing about being a quiet person - the less you talk the more you see. For instance, he notices how the green of Yuri's eyes are more intense due to the colour of his shirt, and he wonders if that was intentional. He can tell by Yuri's body language that he's relaxed and judging by the animated manner in which he speaks it seems like he's enjoying himself. Sitting across from him at a table instead of next to him on a bus is definitely a welcome change, especially since he's quite pleasant to look at.

"Isn't it kind of weird how we hardly know anything about each other? I mean, we know each other's taste in books, movies and that sort of stuff but I don't even know what you do for a living."

"I'm an IT guy for an accounting firm."

"That sounds boring as fuck."

"Oh trust me, it is."

"In that case, it suits your personality perfectly," the blonde teases, which elicits a chuckle from the other man.

"How about you?" Otabek enquires in return.

"Freelance translator. English and Japanese."

"Wouldn't have expected Japanese."

"Yeah, ever since Viktor and Katsudon got together I got dragged to Japan quite a lot. I started picking up bits and pieces of the language so I decided to just commit to it."

"Viktor and Katsudon being?"

"They're the couple I mentioned earlier who owns this place."

"Right, I'm with you now."

"Do you speak any languages other than Russian?"

"Kazakh, English and Korean."

"Korean?" Yuri asks, surprised.

"My great-great grandparents were Korean."

Yuri nods, "Tell me more about your family - do you have any siblings?"

"I have two younger sisters, both married. One has two daughters and the other just recently found out she's expecting her second child."

"That sounds nice," Yuri smiles sadly, "I don't have any family left. Both my parents died in a car accident when I was still a baby. I was raised by my grandpa but he passed away a couple of years ago."

"Sorry to hear that."

The blonde shrugs, "I've gotten used to it."

After a short heavy silence Yuri speaks again, "Geez, that got depressing really fast, didn't it?"

"It's OK, death is a fact of life," Otabek states, painfully reminded of his current predicament.

The blonde gets a faraway look in his eyes, "Yeah. Your life can disappear in an instant. It's kind of funny how we always plan ahead or put something off until later but we don't really know if we'll still be alive tomorrow. People kind of just ignore that little fact."

"We don't want to think about it because it's terrifying."

Yuri hums in agreement, "And we take life for granted in the process."

"That's true, but obsessing over our imminent demise won't keep it from happening."

This is something Otabek knows all too well. The conversation makes him wonder if he should tell the other man about his impending death, but he decides to leave it for another day instead opting to lighten the mood by changing the subject. He tells Yuri about the new motorcycle he purchased earlier in the day and loves the way his eyes light up when he offers to take him for a ride later.

 

After the restaurant kicks them out just after 00:00, they enjoy a long bike ride around the city and eventually end up at a park. It's quiet and serene, with barely another person in sight. Yuri's hair is a complete mess, but he's enjoying himself too much to care about all the painful knots he'll have to brush out later. They spend hours walking around on winding pathways chatting about fond childhood memories and getting to know more about each other, forgetting the bleak conversation from earlier in the evening.

Yuri learns that Otabek used to DJ in his spare time during college, and in turn, Otabek learns that Yuri used to dance as a hobby but an injury ultimately put a stop to it. They both agree that early mornings suck and tea is preferable to coffee, but they discover some of their differences as well - Yuri loves cats and Otabek is more of a dog person, Otabek has a sweet tooth but Yuri prefers savoury food, and while Otabek loves opera music Yuri can't stand it.  
Their chemistry is palpable - neither can deny the electric jolt that shoots through their bodies every time their hands accidentally graze each other as they walk side by side or the fact that they both don't want the night to end.

It's not until 03h01 that Otabek finally drops Yuri off at home.

"Thanks, I really had a good time."

"Yeah so did I," Otabek agrees," We should do this again sometime."

Yuri doesn't know what comes over him but despite his better judgment he suddenly grabs the other man by the collar of his jacket and kisses him. He feels Otabek's hand run through his hair as he kisses him back intently, mouths opening to let their tongues explore. It sends shivers down his spine and everything feels right in the world until Yuri's brain finally catches up with his body - he pulls away immediately.

"Fuck, I am so sorry! I... I shouldn't have done that," the blonde apologises, visibly panicking.

"It's OK, I -"

"No!" he interrupts, "It was a mistake. Just forget it ever happened."

Without another word Yuri promptly scurries into the apartment building, leaving a very confused Otabek on the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

"Shit," Yuri swears under his breath as he shuts the front door.

"Good morning Yuri!" Mila greets cheerfully from the kitchen, busy making herself a cup of tea.

He nearly jumps out of his skin, "What the hell are you doing awake?!"

"I got up to get a glass of water but then I heard a motorcycle pull up outside so..."

He covers his face with his hands in embarrassment, "How much did you see?"

"All of it," she responds a bit too smugly for his taste.

He whines as he flops face flat on to the couch.

"Tea?" Mila asks, and she's answered with a muffled "yes please".

 

She places a hot cup of tea on the coffee table, "Now tell me _everything_." 

He sighs, "Well, I had a great time."

"I gathered that much, judging by the fact that you kissed him."

The blonde groans, "Please don't remind me."

"At least he seemed to like it."

Yuri buries his face in the cushion he's hugging trying to collect his thoughts, and after a few minutes, he recalls the events of the evening.

"Damn, he's so hot I'm almost starting to question my sexuality," Mila comments after Yuri shows her a picture they took together in front of a creepy statue at the park.

"You're getting married in like three months, behave yourself."

"I said _almost_."

"I'm going to tell Sara."

"She'll probably just agree with me."

They both chuckle but the mood suddenly takes a more serious turn.

"I don't see what the problem is here - you obviously like him and he seems to like you too so what's wrong?"

He sighs, "It's complicated..."

"Just because your asshole ex-boyfriend let you down and dumped you without warning doesn't mean that every other guy will."

"I know that."

"Come to think of it, you still haven't actually told me what happened there?"

"I'm just not quite ready to talk about it yet, OK?"

"OK. Just know I'm here for you alright?"

"Yeah, I know."

Mila pulls him in for a hug, which he reciprocates.

"You know, I'm going to miss your stupid ass," Yuri remarks.

"I'll miss you too. But you know you're more than welcome to visit us in Italy, anytime."

"Yeah."

"Now, get your ass into some pyjamas and let's watch a movie. That'll take your mind off things."

After a long hot shower, Yuri joins his best friend on the couch, resting his head on her lap while she plays with his hair. He doesn't pay any attention to the movie she's put on, closing his tired eyes instead. He thinks of how good it felt to be on the back of that motorcycle, wind blowing through his hair as he held on to the other man's hips. He's never gotten this comfortable with anyone in such a short period of time and it honestly scares him a little. He feels more connected to this man than anyone he's ever met - this includes Mila, who he has literally known his entire life. Hopefully, there won't be any severe repercussions for kissing him and running off like that - he's already dreading the thought of having to face the man again on Monday. 

It really is a complicated situation, way more complicated than simply being scorned by an ex-boyfriend. But it's something he'll explain to Mila when the time is right.

The warmth of Otabek's lips on his and the smell of leather that he'll now always associate with him are the last thoughts Yuri has before he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, in my headcannon Yuri's hair is slightly wavy and he actually straightens it. Kind of like [this](http://www.mens-hairstyle.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Guys-with-Long-White-Blonde-Hair.jpg) and [this](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/17/f8/df/17f8dfc3daf9b65bf44edbfc9c189713.jpg).


	3. Chapter 3

Otabek presses his fingers to his lips as if trying to find evidence that the kiss actually happened. He hardly remembers the ride home, his head spinning with thoughts of what just occurred a couple of minutes ago along with many unanswerable questions. Does this mean what he thinks it means? Does Yuri actually have feelings for him? He isn't oblivious to his own feelings but never in a million years did he think Yuri would reciprocate, especially since he was so reluctant to grab dinner together in the first place. No, Yuri asked him to forget that the kiss happened, so it's likely it didn't mean anything at all. He's not entirely sure what Yuri is feeling but he'll give him some space to figure things out, and if nothing comes of it then that's just how it will be.

He quickly realises that being out so late was definitely a bad idea, and it's the first time he's aware of how his illness is actually affecting him - gone are the days of staying up late and surviving with very little sleep. Instead of feeling young and strong he feels decrepit and exhausted, his body aching for rest.  He drags himself to bed and despite how tired he is he just can't get that moment out of his head. Yuri's lips were so incredibly soft and his hair so wonderfully smooth, he vividly remembers the scent of his cologne and he wishes he could go back to experience it all over again. He can't remember the last time anyone had this sort of effect on him and he feels like a hopeless schoolboy with a massive crush, all giddy despite his fatigue. After a couple of minutes, his tired body eventually wins the battle against his overactive brain, and he falls into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 

* * *

 

Yuri is a nervous wreck come Monday, fearing the bus trip home from the coworking space he works from. He'll have to face Otabek again, though as scared as he is he can't bear avoiding him and as much as he hates to admit it he has become quite attached to the other man. To his surprise, however, Otabek is nowhere to be found that evening, nor is there any sign of him the next day either. Different scenarios run through his head as he tries to distract himself - he could be working overtime, or perhaps he's just on leave? He hasn't heard anything from him since they parted on Sunday, so he decides to text him and see if he gets a response.

 

 **Yuri** : Hey

An hour passes and he starts to panic - Otabek never takes this long to respond, even when he's at work. He stares at the unread message and decides that perhaps Otabek just didn't hear his phone the first time around.

 **Yuri:** Are you alive?

Still nothing. Perhaps he _is_ avoiding Yuri, taking a different bus so he doesn't have to see him again. After what Yuri did the other night he can't say he blames the guy, he obviously scared him away. He chastises himself for the hundredth time for acting so impulsively, and it's during these rambling thoughts that he finally gets a response from the man in question.

 **Otabek** : Hey. I'm off sick.

Despite his genuine concern, he sighs with relief. At least he isn't purposefully being ignored.

 **Yuri** : Shit, are you OK?

 **Otabek** : I'm fine.

He thinks for a moment - despite his better judgment he really wants to see Otabek, so he does something he probably shouldn't be doing.

 **Yuri** : Can I come over?

 **Yuri** : I'll bring dinner

 **Yuri** : If you haven't eaten yet

 **Yuri** : And if you're up for it

 **Yuri** : But don't feel obligated

Damn it, five messages in a row. He hates it when people do that to him, _and_ it makes him look like an idiot. What is this man doing to him?

 **Otabek** : That would be nice, thanks.

 

* * *

 

Yuri feels incredibly anxious as he knocks on the door, not sure how Otabek will act. Will things be awkward between after what happened? He desperately hopes that won't be the case, and also hopes that Otabek won't bring it up. It would be a real shame if their friendship got ruined by a lapse in Yuri's self-control. Otabek opens the door wearing pyjamas and invites him inside - the apartment isn't anything fancy but it's comfortable, decorated in a modern and minimalist style. It's all black, grey and white with touches of colour here and there to lighten things up a bit, and it's obvious that Otabek is a very tidy person, with every single thing having its place. It is also apparent that he likes plants judging by all the orchids decorating the living area, around six or seven of them in varying colours.

  

"So what's up? I thought you had the flu or something," Yuri enquires.

"I'm just tired and achy," Otabek explains, "Guess I've just been overworking myself lately."

"Oh. You should take better care of yourself."

"Says the one who just brought me pizza for dinner. Very healthy."

"A balanced diet is good for you and pizza has all five food groups covered," the blonde jokes, which elicits a small smile from the other man.

Otabek opens the fridge, "Beer?"

"Sure, thanks."

"It's a nice surprise for you to come over."

"Don't feel too special. Mila's out of town for the rest of the week so I needed someone else to annoy for the time being."

Otabek smiles as he passes an opened bottle of beer to Yuri, "In that case, thank you for coming over to annoy me."

After dinner they relax on Otabek's bed, watching the latest episode of Westworld together. Yuri finds that despite the lack of conversation he's enjoying himself, and he discovers that he most definitely prefers watching television with Otabek because, unlike Mila, he doesn't talk during important scenes. 

 

Yuri suddenly becomes very aware of how little space there is between the two of them. He's so close - too close, and just like last time Yuri is drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Otabek notices him staring and while Yuri knows better he can't help himself - when their eyes meet he leans in for a kiss and their lips meet with a consuming intensity of sensations. The blonde breaks away temporarily to straddle the other man, returning to the kiss with a burning passion, showing no signs of slowing down. He feels a jolt of excitement shoot through his body as he notices the firm bulge forming in the other man's pants, while painfully aware of his own growing arousal. He knows what he wants, and thus far he has let his body take the lead but, once again, the voice in his head puts a sudden stop to everything. He quickly pulls away and jumps off the bed as if he's suddenly afraid of Otabek.

"I... I have to go," he says, all hot and flustered, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

Otabek is on his feet in a matter of seconds, "Damn it Yuri, why are you so hot and cold all the time?"

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little drunk..."

"You've hardly had two beers, you can't be  _that_ drunk."

The blonde doesn't respond, nervously fidgeting with his fingers and looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

Otabek continues, "Look, I really like you but I can't handle this game of cat and mouse. What _do_ you want? Because your actions don't correspond with your words."

"I-I can't get involved right now."

"Why not?"

He once again receives no verbal response from the blonde, instead this time he gets an outburst of tears.

He's immediately concerned, "Yuri, what's going on?"

"I'm dying okay?!" the blonde sobs.

"Dying?"

"Yes, I have leukaemia and there's nothing they can do about it - I'm fucking dying!" Yuri shouts, near on hysterical.

Otabek is stunned into silence, but Yuri continues, "Of course I like you, how could I not? But getting involved with someone at a time like this is just... it would just be selfish."

Selfish - the word really stings. He's right, it _is_ incredibly selfish but Otabek got so tied up in the moment he didn't spare a second to think about the repercussions.

"You're right, it is incredibly selfish. I'm sorry."

The blonde takes a few deliberate breaths in order to calm himself down before he responds, "You moron, what are you apologising for?"

"I have a malignant melanoma that managed to spread to various other organs in my body. The x-rays were quite amazing really, it looked like a star exploded in my chest."

Yuri doesn't quite comprehend. He hears what the other man is saying, but it's impossible to believe.

"What?"

"What I'm saying is I'm terminally ill as well.  I'm not feeling well because being up until the early hours of the morning on Sunday really did a number on me. I'm sorry for selfishly wanting you knowing full well that I'm going to die in the near future, I shouldn't have done that. At least not without telling you about my condition first."

The blonde stares at him dumbfounded, tears streaking his face as Otabek continues, "I haven't really told anyone yet. It's kind of weird saying it out loud-"

Before he knows what's happening Yuri is wrapping his arms around him as he continues to cry. He wraps his arms around the blonde in return, stroking his long hair in an attempt to comfort him while he tries, but ultimately fails, to hold back tears of his own. For some reason, the fact that Yuri is dying hurts him so much more than thinking of his own upcoming demise.

"What are we going to do?" Yuri asks, barely louder than a whisper.

Otabek responds with a shaky voice, hugging the blonde even tighter, "I guess we're going to die."

 

After a while, they return to the bed where they lie in sombre silence. Otabek continues to hold Yuri and stroke his hair until they eventually fall asleep, both feeling physically and emotionally exhausted.


End file.
